Pop-Tarts
by Professur
Summary: Kazahaya makes breakfast and finds it really is not his forte.


a/n. i wrote this mainly because i wanted someone who could make worse pancakes than me, its kinda hard. anyways, if you say its unbelievable that the batter boiled, well ill let you in on a secret: i once tried to make brownies on the stove and presto! they boiled. my bad. i could have owned this cause i forgot, but now i rmemebered so here it is: i do not own legal drug.

Kazahaya stared at what lay before him. Poptarts. A gross to end all grosses. Never, not once, not in a million years, would he lower himself to eating such an absurdity. But it was all they had. At least, all that he could cook correctly. He'd been awoken early this morning and hadn't been able to go back to sleep. It was his day to cook breakfast, so he figured he'd get started. Alas, as before stated, poptarts were just not gonna cut it.

Having just gotten up, Kazahaya's brain was not yet running on full cylinders and so allowed a bad idea to get through. 'Why not make pancakes?' he thought. 'They're yummy and fluffy and don't take too long. Yeah. That is what i'll do. Brilliant idea, me.' He happily put away the dreaded toaster food and turned to the cupboards. He opened the doors and found himself staring again.

'What goes into pancakes? I've never tried making them before, but Rikuo's done it so it can't be too hard. Hmmm, lets see... aha! Flour! I know thats in there somewhere.' He grabbed the flour and set it on the counter, rummaging through his brain for other likely ingredients. When he thought all he could, the counter was cluttered. On it resided flour, eggs, milk, butter, salt, sugar, syrup and blue food coloring. Looking upon his work, he nodded. 'Okay, i'm ready.'

'What goes in first? Aah, i'm sure it doesn't matter. I know flour and syrup are pancakey.. yup, it even says "pancake syrup'. So i guess i'll mix those two first.' Not knowing measuring was important in following a recipe (which he wasn't anyways so it doesn't matter too much), Kazahaya dumped about a third of the flour into a large mixing bowl. Next came the syrup. Half a bottle of it and it was still overly floury. He looked at the bottle. 'Oh well,' he thought, flipping it upside down. 'No need to be stingy.' In went the remainder of the syrup. This brought the mixture to a nice glop. 'Perfect.'

Next, the eggs, milk and salt. The boy bit his lip. 'How to go about this. There is either a lot of sugar and a little salt, or a lot of salt and a little sugar. Taste test.' He dipped a finger and licked off the, if it could be called so, batter. 'The syrup made it really sweet, so i bet it's a lot of salt. Oki-dae.' Over a third cup of salt was dumped before Kazahaya decided enough. 'It IS salt. Don't wanna completely ruin the pancakes. Now the milk. I bet a four second sploosh will work.' So he tipped the jug and let the milk run for four seconds before righting it again. 'I know a way to crack eggs, so thats all good. But how many? We have a dozen, so why not six?' Holding an egg above the bowl, he squished it between his hands and it broke. This mess was dropped, shell and all, into the bowl. This process repeated five times.

While stirring in the new additions, Kazahaya contemplated the others. 'Rikuo poured something out of a little bottle and thats the only one i could find so im sure thats it.' Little did he know, his roommate had used vanilla, something they were currently out of, not food coloring. 'A little bit of sugar and add in some butter so it doesn't stick, and i'll be done.' Pinching up a few sugar crystals, he sprinkled them over his bowl. Then he emptied in the food coloring. Giving these a rapid stir, he looked upon the last one. The butter. 'I know that butter is used as a non-stick like oil, so if i add some in, it should come right off.' Following these lines, he unwrapped the stick, stared at it a moment, then shrugged and dropped the whole thing in. He was just lucky it had been left out overnight, or it wouldn't have melded with the batter quite so well. With his batter done, all was needed was to fry it. Kazahaya reached to grab a pan.

Rikuo was in a very pleasant dream, walking down the street and everyone bowing towards him, when he was awoken by a horrid smell. Or was it the noise? That was pretty bad too. But the smell was worse. Getting out of bed, eyes still shut, he shook his head. 'Oh, why, oh why won't it stop?' "Kazahaya!"he shouted. "Make whatever it is shut up!" When the noise persisted, he groaned and stood up to find the noise and make sure it never made a peep again. He finally opened his eyes.

What greeted his newly opened eyes was not a happy sight. The bedroom was filled with smoke. A dark, acrid smelling smoke that seemed to be flowing in from the kitchen. Rikuo rushed to the eatery to find another unhappy sight. For starters, Kazahaya stood in front of the a good sign. Another bad thing was what he was doing on the stove. A large pan was on the front burner, with apparently a very offensive occupant inside, for it was sending a huge flame up and into the air, spreading the fowl smoke that filled the room. The last thing Rikuo took in before taking action was that his roommate was not standing in front of the stove, as earlier believed. He was hopping around shouting at the fire, the now discovered to be smoke alarm covering his words.

Rikuo lunged to push Kazahaya out of the danger zone and turned off the stove. Then he dug a pot cover out of a drawer and slammed it on to the pan, cutting off the oxygen supply. He glared at the Kazahay, then went off to open all the windows wide to let out the smoke. He returned to the seen of the crime to find the other boy staring sadly into a bowl on the counter. "And i'd been doing so well..." he murmured. Going about it logically, Rikuo kept his voice cool until he was told the cause, instead of shouting then shouting even louder later.

"What in the world possessed you to try to cook? Or were you actually trying to burn the building down? Cause a bit longer and you'd have been well on your way." Kazahaya continued staring into the bowl, but his lips moved. "What was that?" Rikuo asked.

"...Cakes.."

"You were trying to make cake? On the stove?"

"I was trying to make pancakes. I almost got it too, i'm sure. The batter was perfect, though the blue was weird. It was all going well until i tried cooking them..." The smaller boy boy carried on under his breath, but Rikuo had stopped listening. Believing the fire was now dead, curiosity got the better of him and he walked over to see what was in the pan. On the way, he saw what was in the bowl. A deep blue sludge-like liquid with white flecks. 'Pancakes, riiiight...'

As the top came off the pan, a last puff of the black smoke burst in to the air to be quickly pulled out the window above the stove. When the air cleared, Rikuo could see the pan bottom. What was on it, anyways. It was covered in a layer of black gunge, half-burned half-boiled. The smell was unbearable. He swiftly replaced the top. Turning the other way, he took a deep breath. "Kazahaya," he sighed, getting his roomies attention. "How about i make breakfast?"

Fifteen minutes later, both boys sat at the table in their newly cleaned kitchen. One reading his newspaper, the other staring into space. Kazahaya took a bit of his poptart that Rikuo had made him. 'They're really not that bad,' he tried to convince himself. Then he swallowed and knew he was lying. 'I would almost rather eat the pancake i made.' He began to take a deep breath, but stopped when he caught whiff of the residual smell of disaster. He took another bite of the poptart.


End file.
